


Then, he smiled

by redsilklino



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: ? maybe for the seungchan part, Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bang Chan is Whipped, Bang Chan is a tease, Biting, Blindfolds, Bottom Lee Minho | Lee Know, Chan is in a hoodie, Chan's past sexual encounters that are mentioned are pretty toxic, Choking, Cock & Ball Torture, Collars, Consensual Sex, Crying, Degradation, Dom Lee Minho Lee Know, Dom aftercare, Exhibitionism, Jealousy, Lee Minho is a tease, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, M/M, Mentions of a Seungchan scene, Nipple Licking, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pet Names, Rimming, Ruined Orgasm kind of, Sadistic Minho, Scratching, Semi-Public Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Suggestive photos, Top Bang Chan, Unprotected Sex, a bit of blood, about your feelings and wants despite the fact that having those convos is very hard, and minho's red outfit for that iconic Levanter performance, and they go over his boundaries so that is a tw (is a line, but just so you know that there are mentions of that :(, emotional mess at the end, enjoy, hiting, it took me a month to write this, masochist chan, mentions of an imaginative threesome with Seungmin, mentions of bad past experiences (Chan), mentions of them switching sometimes, more than once, praising, puppy and kitten, slight hand job in between, sub bang chan, the jealousy here is not very healthy so please always talk with your partners, they are in the band and it is settled around Levanter era bc of the blindfolds, they are so soft for each other that it hurts at some point, what the f was that? idk sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 08:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22846978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsilklino/pseuds/redsilklino
Summary: Bang Chan misses having sex with Minho after long weeks of tour. He decides to make him jealous to get a reaction but he doesn't expect half of the things Minho ends up doing to him.OrBang Chan and Minho are both fucking teases that have kinky sex and in between there's a lot of emotional paragraphs about what they feel for each other.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 8
Kudos: 122





	Then, he smiled

**Author's Note:**

> It was a long ass ride (pun intended) to write this mess. Spare my writing, specially at the end, I have been writing for 5 hours to finish this and I can't even form more phrases in English correctly. I also changed the end several times but I still hate this one so much. 
> 
> I think I have lost my soul writing this, honestly, this was so hard because it was the first time I wrote about rimming, cock and ball torture, etc... so please, don't be too harsh on the accuracy even though I have read articles of people explaining into detail every single one of them. 
> 
> READ CAREFULLY ALL THE TAGS and enjoy :)

Honestly, he should have seen it coming.

It was Minho after all. Lee Minho. The one who always had that kind of sweetheart smile on his face when he saw the other members singing or trying new things and cheered them on with cute little hand gestures. The one whose eyes always shine brightly in the dark when he talked about his precious cats as if they were his brothers. The one who not-for-a-fucking-single-day skipped any class, even if he got a cold or sprained an ankle, and worked until late at night to finish some new choreographies for the group. But, especially, the one who liked to tease him in public by whispering in his ear indecent phrases playfully. The one who smiled entertained whenever Chan blushed and squirmed on his seat in public because of his words. The one who really enjoyed seeing how confident Chan was on stage, always showing off, giving a show to the people that attended lifting up his shirt, biting and licking his lips slowly and rocking his hips, but then, in their dorms and off camera, being his cute awkward nerdy self with his computer programs for composing music and his love for anime.

So, knowing damn well how Minho particularly fancied getting on his nerves and driving him crazy with just one look or gesture, he should have seen that Minho would use the opportunity to torture him a bit more on the bed without showing any kind of mercy for him. Like the day he was too sleep deprived when they were trainees and they were taking a subway late at night, Minho seemed to be dozing off cutely snuggled on his old jacket, but Chan was wide awake and almost fully hard for a video Changbin had sent him about a boy getting absolutely wrecked in public. Under any other circumstance, his control would have won the battle and he would use the time to compose a bit more on the way back to the dorms, completely forgetting about the not-so-small problem, but he was too tired, too frustrated and too horny by the stupid teenage hormones, so his concentration was no less than on his own dick, which was annoyingly twitching on his pants and leaking the more he thought about that adorable sensitive sub.

The first ten minutes of the ride were peaceful, or the most peaceful they could be, taking into account that it hurt like hell the more his cock remained unattended. Nevertheless, the calmness didn’t last much longer, when Minho decided that putting his hand on Chan’s thigh, near his clothed hard on, was an absolutely terrific idea and also taking advantage of their similar heights to rest his head on his shoulder was even a better plan. Chan was kind of frenetic at that point, peering both sides in case anyone noticed how awkwardly he started to move and how his ears got redder than ever. But they were alone in that wagon if he didn’t count the old man who was snoring loudly a few more seats on the left. And Chan was trying to imagine the routine he would follow before going to bed, reflect on whatever schedule he had on his head, when he felt Minho’s hot breath against his neck. Immediately, Chan got petrified on his seat, trembling slightly and a knot forbidding him to form any coherent words to wake up his friend.

He moved slowly to the side, in hopes of Minho magically waking up on his own, but his muscles became rigid on the same exact moment Minho opened his mouth to say the following words “What’s wrong, Channie?” and Chan knew he was fucked up so bad. Because Minho didn’t use that endearing, drowsy voice a somnolent person would usually make use of if he had been napping for almost half of the ride. His voice sounded a little harder, deeper, because they hadn’t spoken in more than thirty minutes, but fully awakened and completely consciously of what he was doing and pronouncing. And if his tone, controlled and full of mockery, wasn’t enough for Chan to decipher the filthy invitation of stopping him right there before he could bring him down faster, his hand moved upwards, pausing just right above his dick, tracing, for an almost exhilarating second, the shape of his member with his small delicate fingers. Those motherfucker fingers which not at all had filled Chan’s fantasies more than once while he was jerking off in the old dorms at four a.m., trying so hard to be quiet but failing even more pathetically whenever a stroke felt particularly good. Cute, desperate and embarrassing moans echoing through the walls of their small bathroom while images of Minho’s mischievous smirk flashed through his closed eyes. And, obviously, not at all accompanied in the post-orgasm bliss by the vivid image of Minho’s elegant body.

It wasn’t that Chan hadn’t noticed his flirtatious behaviour around him lately back in those days, nor the way he eye-fucked him whenever they were exercising together. But he didn’t take him seriously. After all, it was Minho, one of his best friends, or more precisely, the most good looking guy out of his best friends, and they were all sexually frustrated due to their tight schedule now that the debut date seemed to be closer than ever, and Chan knew he was unattractive with all those deep talks about astronomy, the bags under his eyes due to his broken sleep schedule and his awful cooking skills.

But Chan wasn’t being honest with himself, neither treating himself as if he wasn’t worth it, nor ignoring his own attraction for Minho during all those long days. So after running away from Minho immediately when they got home, without saying a single word as an answer for the whole journey back home, yet not moving away the hand that was on his crotch; Minho decided to maintain a safe distance between them for a while until their first debut anniversary.

That’s when things got complicated again and they couldn’t ignore each other any more. Those longing looks became hungry lips in search for the other’s sweet taste. Those hands that were kept in their laps, yearning, fumbling distractedly while trying not to project the image of the other’s body spread graciously on their beds, were then desperate enough to run valiant down the lover’s figure in hotel rooms and quiet nights on the dorms. All just after a small gesture of Minho that seemed innocent at first, but turned to be much more attentive that he truly meant it on his mind. A single hand caressing Chan’s hair after a long night making him feel at ease, just a few playful words from the older and Minho tightening the grip on his dark curly hair to fake annoyance over one stupid comment and see him wince in pain. “Karma” he wanted to say when Chan complained about his sweet fingers abusing his locks, but the words never came out of his mouth, because Chan not only winced, but also whimpered out loud in a kind of hoarse voice owing to the tiredness.

They both stayed still for a few seconds, speechless not by the whimper itself, but by the intensity that dimmed their pupils when their eyes met, aghast by the natural reaction of their organisms, but, nevertheless, turned on with such a ferocity. Like a whole magnified fire that had been burning them down slowly, quietly, since before that episode on the subway, that it made them breathless. The fire spreading itself, implacable, hot, addictive. The flames devouring them. The electricity running through their veins and their fingers itching in need for a single touch that would bring them to ashes.

They wanted to combust. They wanted to disappear in the rapture of the moment, of the lover’s eyes, hands and lips. Just a single touch was enough to ignite the inextinguishable fire that would bring their defenses down in seconds. At that exact moment, they didn’t care about what the company would think about them, nor about what the public would do if they ever found out. They just thought about the ecstasy of feeling, at last, the lips of the other tracing it’s torturous and feverish path along their most sensitive spots. Those dreams of the past becoming a vivid present encapsulated in their exhausted and youthful memories.

An encounter a week soon became almost every day, at any moment they had together just the two of them in the enchanting silence of their piercing intimacy. After that first night of exploring each other roughly it was difficult to keep their hands off the other. It was difficult to not kiss those delicious lips that were moving, explaining, talking, doing everything except from meeting with theirs in a passionate and sensual touch. It took the best of them to win the battle against control, to not let their hearts catch more feelings than those they should. To not submit to the incessant wailing of their souls.

So, Chan _really_ should have seen it coming from a long way. Especially after that night he was too touchy in front of Minho with Seungmin because he was horny and excited after the concert, on vlive, with all the fans watching them. Hands on his hips, crotch near his cute ass, playful gestures such as spanks that didn’t really mean anything, but still, they made Seungmin groan out loud and, consequently, they made Chan feel the penetrating eyes of Minho on his frame. He didn’t want to shiver, to show how easily moved he was by just one look. He didn’t want Minho to see that, somehow, he continued his gestures for the rest of the live just to annoy him because he missed his touch. Because he knew Minho would do something to teach him a lesson after it. And Chan absolutely loved to be punished by Minho lately.

He liked the pain and the pleasure that came with it and since that first experience of being with a sadistic partner, he searched for more. He wanted to know his limits and cross them slowly, let himself be wrecked until he cried incoherent words and unstoppable tears filled his cheeks with both delight and ache. He enjoyed the soreness that came with it all the next morning, the pain on his muscles from the overexertion of fucking Minho numb and being ruined by him at the same time. He loved how they could easily switch places when they felt to, how mellow Minho was and how simple it was for them to talk about boundaries, dislikes and kinks, turns off and make suggestions. He cherished how soft Minho could sometimes be, like the first time Chan bottomed, how lovely his kisses were, as if it was Chan’s first time, when it reality it wasn’t, but he let him treasure his body, because, deep down, Chan loved to be praised and each time Minho fucked him, he would use that to his advantage, to make Chan feel smaller, to make him blush with the compliments, to see how cutely he would try to hide behind the sweater paws of his big oversized hoodie, embarrassed, shy, incredible turned on and so fragile in the intimacy of the moment.

Reasonably, therefore, Chan wouldn’t stop thinking for the rest of the night about what Minho would come up with after the live ended and everyone came back to their respective rooms; what would he say, do or not do to him just to show him who he belongs to. But Minho didn’t do anything that night and Chan, although slightly disappointed, knew it was just to make him lose his cool first, to teach him who had more control between the two of them and who could endure it best to not feel the other’s lips on his body. And Minho always had an unbearable and frustrating amount of self-discipline when it meant to torture Chan, so rationally, Chan knew that he had to do something more to push Minho to his limit, closer to his breaking point, closer to the idea of him slamming the door open before entering the room and putting him on his place.

And indeed he got a reaction almost instantly after sending a photo of his cute pink hole, wet with lube after stretching himself open, so visible and inviting, legs spread apart on the bed and smooth pale skin on display with just the hoodie hiding part of his erection. But Chan knew it was the message he attached to the image that made Minho lose his mind and come back from the gym, where he was hiding after exchanging rooms with Felix in the morning (the real roommate of Chan that night) just to exasperate the older boy.

“Maybe Seungmin would be up to play with me tonight after all. I am sure his hole is so tight that he would whimper aloud with rapture every time I penetrate him, fast and hard. And maybe, then I will let him switch places to take his sweet revenge with me”

Minho wasn’t really the type to be jealous, even more so taking into account that they weren’t more than just two friends with benefits kind of thing. They never talked about the depth of their emotions for each other because of the group and the company, and maybe because both were a bit uneasy about the intensity of those feelings. Just a little, of course.

However, something struck wrong that night with him, those awfully slow gestures of Chan grinding against Seungmin’s ass on live and Chan’s latest message.

Maybe it was the fact that they wouldn’t do anything else apart from jerking off and kissing on the past few days because the members were all over them. Maybe it was that, lately, Minho had been trying to ignore his own feelings for the cute boy harder than ever and it left him feeling more exhausted each night that passed without sleeping on the same bed and calling him his boyfriend, even just in whispers at night, when the darkness seemed to swallow them and accelerate the beating of their young hearts.

Maybe it was the fact that Chan had recently admitted to having been attracted to Seungmin for the longest time and craving his touch, his lips, and his warmness in one of those nights in which he cutely articulated wrong phrases, half asleep, cuddling with Minho for a while after having sex. Minho knew he shouldn’t have taken that into account, because Chan didn’t even remember that they talked after having sex that night and he didn’t mean to admit that to Minho, or anyone at all. But it hurt and it hurt even more that after that confession he said something along the lines of desiring a threesome with Seungmin, just for the sake of fucking the sexual tension they had but never put into words as he and Minho did.

So, Minho didn’t really know exactly what disturbed him about the way Chan slightly humped against Seungmin’s ass, because Minho had always enjoyed himself putting on a show and seeing his partners kiss and fuck other people just to please him and his wicked desires. Except he perfectly knew what those emerging feelings were called and he despised them deeply and, subsequently, proceeded to bury them ten feet under the ground, behind inexpressive smiles and cold lies such as being too tired with the tour.

Seeing that satisfactory smile on Chan’s face whenever Seungmin moaned and wrinkled the bedsheets on live with just a few touches, was like a punch in the guts. Part of him thought about letting Chan get away with it, to ignore him from now on and even pushing him to hook up with Seungmin, since he wasn’t blind and saw the erection the younger member had after almost running away from the room, embarrassed and horny from the pretty obvious grinding on camera. He felt breathless and furious about how blatant sinful Chan’s behaviour was, about how he smiled deeply when he saw the way Minho clenched his jaw watching them with burning eyes. But a vicious part of him grown an unholy erection when images of him fucking Chan numb in front of Seungmin appeared clearly on his mind, to show the younger boy _who_ was the owner of that fucking dumb and horny corrupted puppy. Images of how Seungmin would whimper aloud, desperate, feeling almost betrayed by the way he could just watch and touch himself but not participate directly. His voice would become a small cry, so innocent and primitive at the same time that just one deadly look from Minho would be able to shut him up. His cute dick reddish, leaking on the dirty sheets, his eyes teary because he was aching to be in between them. He would say something like “Hy-yungs, it hurts so bad” with a cute pout but Chan wouldn’t be able do anything with his face pressed against the pillows and his mouth opened in a silent scream of pleasure, his body jolting with each precise thrust of Minho’s body.

Or even better, he would let Chan fuck him good, heavy breaths and irresistible moans echoing through the room, and Minho clenching around Chan’s dick on purpose to monopolize all his attention and make him unable to even remember Seungmin was there. Chan would be so caught up on his own pleasure that he would just have eyes for Minho and then Minho would look at the lonely puppy and he would smile, enjoying the pain in Seungmin’s expression, enjoying how he would break just by that unfair torture. Because Minho wanted to see him suffer at that moment and he abhorred himself more than ever for forming the thought of hurting the younger physically, even if he was dominated by his -unprecedented- jealousy.

Those clear images in the back of his mind made him feel dirty and ashamed. So Minho tried to listen to what the other members were saying to the fans, some jokes and useless TMI’s, while looking back at his phone screen where the chat was burning with comments from people all around the world. He tried to read every one of them in a stupid attempt to forget how his cock was still half hard on his pants, or how Seungmin kept whining louder now that Chan grow more impatient about getting Minho’s evasive attention. Minho sighed and ignored the way Seungmin hugged the pillow that was situated between his chest and the bed, and he especially tried to ignore how Chan was spanking Seungmin on camera, by his side and seeing perfectly well how Minho’s muscles tensed with each spank. The hard sound of the “mischievous” and “friendly” slaps resonating in the room until Chan decided that he risked enough and proceeded to hug the younger boy in a loving way. At least Seungmin stopped groaning and the rest of the members relaxed on their seats.

Chan was definitely fucking with his mind and honestly, Minho was feed up by his brattiness and the constant doubts that emerged on his head each day that passed. He used to be completely confident with his hook ups, he used to not care about what they did and enjoy whenever they introduced a third party on the sex field. He did not care if they didn’t see each other for days. He just wanted to get fucked and fuck, depending on the day and his mood. He used to be the one being spoiled but with Chan everything was different.

He cared about Chan. And that was fucking scary because he never felt so hard for anyone and the company had left things clear when they signed the contracts: they could fuck, they could mess with each other, even all together, for they didn’t care. They could kiss, touch, give blowjobs and put into practice any type of sexual activity as long as they keep it off camera and not so obvious for a long time, but most importantly, as long as their feelings didn’t transform from friendship or brotherhood to any other kind of romantic love.

That was the rule on their contracts and breaking it meant that they would have to be banned for weeks from all social media, situated far away from the other every time they appeared in public for the sake of their relationship’s privacy and undoubtedly, in the end, taken apart from the group. And Minho knew that the company wouldn’t make Chan quit his own group, or more precisely, that he couldn’t make Chan quit the group he created and invested all his life and love in. Leaving him, Minho, to be the one drifting apart from the rest and lying constantly about the real reasons for his departure, especially the moment a rumour about them being together as a couple emerged and seemed credible.

And that led them to this exact moment, with Chan sitting half naked on the edge of his hotel room, hoodie covering his hard on and his beautiful thighs, messy hair and adorable smile with dimples on display. But Minho was used to that, or at least, that’s what he thought and tried to say to himself, as if every day it didn’t make his heart stop on his chest. Minho looked at Chan, inattentive to his exhibit of cuteness, hands transformed into fists and chest rising heavily after going back to the room faster than he wanted to admit to himself. Minho was extremely irritated by Chan’s attitude, by the way the older boy now tried to make himself look smaller, breakable, with those sweater paws hiding his hands except for the end of his fingers. His submissive eyes sparkled in the dark when Minho spoke with a harsh and deep voice, emotionless.

“Looks like some dirty lustful mutt wouldn’t mind getting fucked by a pathetic whore if that meant they got what they want, mh?” Minho knew he was being too cruel with Seungmin by calling him “whore” because he wasn’t at fault, at all, by what Chan did to get his attention, but his heart shattered into a million pieces that night weeks before, hearing the way Chan pronounced Seungmin’s name with so much love and adoration. “All for having me here, right? Because you are that pretty disgusting and would use your friends as a horny miserable rat to get away with it, wouldn’t you?. You knew you would win by playing dirty and that’s what you did. Playing really, fucking, dirty.” he emphasized every word slowly, enjoying too much the way Chan shivered and lowered his head in a docile motion.

Minho’s eyes burned like fire, scanning Chan from head to toes, tracing a plan of what he exactly wanted to do to him that night. He wanted to make him cry for real, not just a few tears, but sobbing and begging like he never did in the past, wailing his name in a broken voice. All fragility and a mixture of pain and pleasure that would make him feel more light-headed than ever. And he would do nothing. Nothing at all to bring him the pleasure he wants so hopelessly.

Chan bites his pink plump lips, excited by Minho’s next movement, and his hands play with the end of his hoodie, revealing a little more of the smooth and sensitive skin of his thighs. Minho walks nearer Chan and his hand isn’t delicate when he grips Chan’s jaw, but he doesn’t complain, already expecting the fulminant but bearable flash of pain when Minho’s hand will touch his skin with a hard slap that would make his pale skin shine in a palette of red and pink tints.

Except that it never comes and they both eye each other for a few seconds in the tense silence of the sordid night, like a prey and its predator in those breathless seconds before the hunt starts. Although, for the first time, Minho wonders if tonight he is really the one chasing.

Fear can be smelled in the atmosphere of the jet black room, as well as lust. Primal, indescriptible and alluring lust.

Minho’s hand moves to Chan’s neck, resting on the black choker that surrounds one of his most sensitive parts and plays with the ring that is connected to the collar, with a fascinating glint in his dark eyes, as if he was thinking about something funny but the laugh never really reached his lips. The choker doesn’t have a leash right now, but Minho pulls a bit and Chan moves accordingly to Minho’s desires, getting a little closer to his full clothed and sweaty body. Chan swallows nervously because Minho hasn’t said a word in the last few minutes, just eyeing him up and down, but he doesn’t break the silence, too aware of the consequences.

He didn’t want to be too ambitious and make Minho get mad at him for real.

Minho perceives a sweet scent coming from Chan and the last few drops of water that fall from his locks confirms his suspicions. Chan had taken a shower after the rest of the members left and then he had prepared himself in case Minho wanted to fuck him, or maybe just to drive him crazy with that pornographic photo. He didn’t know, and he didn’t care right now. All he knew was that Chan wasn’t going to bottom tonight, but indeed, he would be the one suffering the most from the two.

“So pretty” he praised, feeling with the tip of his fingers the spot on his neck that he always liked to leave marked. Chan squirms a little on his seat, but is obedient enough to not move or to not touch Minho, as he learned from past experiences when Minho was displeased by his behaviour. His fingers come back to Chan’s face and they trace the outline of his full lips, slowly, before obligating the older to open his mouth and take two of his fingers in. Chan moans around the digits, maybe thinking that it is a positive signal of Minho giving in to his desires and Minho lets him believe that sweet lie while watching attentively how the cute average dick of his friend twitches under the hoodie with something so simple.

Then, _he smiled._

Because Chan was fucking sensitive and that supported perfectly his ruthless ideas for the night.

 _The motherfucker smiled,_ that’s all Chan’s brain could decipher while his mouth worked savouring and licking Minho’s fingers. And that made him think that he really should have seen it coming before Minho opened his mouth to say: “Let’s see how much you can take before I finish with you, although I don’t think you can bear it at all until the end” and the way his lips curled up should have terrified him, probably, but it only made him move his hips closer to Minho, impatient to feel whatever he had planned.

“Close your eyes and bring your hands together to the front” suddenly his fingers aren’t any more on the wetness of Chan’s lips and he strides to where his luggage was left hurriedly before the concert in one corner of the room. Chan is compliant and quick to obey, taking deep breaths to calm his frenetic heart and trying to get an idea of what Minho is doing by the silent sounds he can hear. He can distinguish the noise of a zipper being opened and the steady movements of Minho searching for something inside, pushing away what Chan thought were some clothes and the typical products for the skin they always carried around.

After a few seconds he can hear Minho's trade getting closer and his skin tingles, thrilled with the ominous silence. His heart pounds faster when he feels Minho’s hot breath against his face and his mouth gets drier, so Chan licks his lips without thinking, his tongue caressing the bruises of his lips due to the winter’s weather. But something nips hard on his lower lip and he flinches, startled and tasting blood because of the little cuts he previously had, now opened again. Minho laughs and Chan is pretty sure that he didn’t think about it before going all the way in, biting him violently and unexpectedly, just to check if Chan would disobey him. But he doesn’t and his hands play a little with Chan’s hair, confusing the older more.

He feels the soft fabric of some kind of cloth, like a band, covering his eyes and Chan realizes that it is the blindfold Minho used to practice the group’s new choreography. The real problem that started it all in the first place that morning. Red silk embracing Minho’s silhouette, allowing people to catch a sight for the first time of his beautifully tanned collarbones. The muscles and bones outlined perfectly against the shirt dyed in the colour of blood, a tint of crimson that truly enhanced his ethereal beauty. His dark brown hair styled enough to make him look elegant, classy but also relaxed with his hair parted into two, granting a view of his forehead. The make up only made him look more Greek God-like, similar to those ancient statues that embodied perfection, symmetry and harmony. And seeing him dance and sing those falsettos so heavenly, as some sort of devil disguised as an angel, it made Chan feel weak and craving his touch more than ever.

The way Minho had moved his body with the blindfold that morning brought back into his memory that time in which he openly admitted loving the thought of sensory deprivation. He would have bet that Minho was distracted with his phone when he said that in a soft voice, long ago. But apparently, Minho had heard him loud and clear enough to bring with him the blindfold. He could have bought one on the internet but Chan was pretty sure that Minho chose to take that one for the sole purpose of making him needier the instant Chan would recognize the fabric.

Now he could even understand why Minho seemed to be so excited about trying that choreography, convincing the younger members, who were hesitant with their skills and the tiredness that lately had taken over their bodies with the tour and the preparation for a new album. He could even see that obscene tinge on his eyes the day they agreed to try it out. He could even imagine the kind of thoughts that came into his mind when Chan seemed pleased by the plan, laughing at him, awaiting the moment he could turn that accessory of the dance routine into Chan’s biggest turn on and torture.

His fingers are delicate but fast tying the knot precisely and Chan cannot get out of his mind the idea of Minho trying it out on his own before using it with him, just to check the perfect angle to immerse him into the darkness and into an indescriptible explosion of emotions. Maybe even masturbating with the blindfold to get a grasp of what Chan would feel and how to amplify every sensation to its maximum level.

“What is your safe word, baby?” His voice is still deep and a bit breathless, but it doesn’t sound as harsh as before and Chan mentally thanks him for making sure to always keep it safe for both of them, even by asking him each time which is his safe word and any of their other established non-verbal codes.

“Pineapple if I need a check out to make sure that I can continue and it’s not getting too much, Soongie if I cannot take it anymore. In case I am too caught up into the pleasure that I cannot speak, gagging or if I am pressed against the pillow, then I would tap three times on your arm or squeeze hard, whatever I can do faster, but if you tie me up and I cannot feel you or see you, I will drop whatever object you give me…” he can feel the rough fabric of the leather around his wrists, rough, tight and raw against his sensitive skin. He had applied cream after taking a shower, because his skin wasn’t in the best condition, but seeing the route that Minho was taking, Chan knew that by the end of the night he would have to use a lot more and probably hide the marks that the restraints would leave on his pale skin from the avid focus of cameras.

“Good” he whispers, kissing Chan’s nose unexpectedly in a cute and reassuring way “Remember that you don’t have to be afraid of saying them. We both have to enjoy it and I wouldn’t like you to lie to me just for the sake of giving me pleasure.” Chan nods and swallows hard, however, this time it isn’t from the sexual desire, but for the feelings that emerge in his heart when Minho speaks to him like that, as if he was someone important to him and he truly meant it about giving them both pleasure.

A part of him believes that Minho always makes sure to say that because he reckons the night Chan admitted to have had pretty bad experiences with other people in the bed, even in those cases he was the top. They never wanted to spend time after having sex, they never established any type of safe words and in a few occasions they made him do things that he wasn’t comfortable with. He can still feel the painful humiliation of their words in his mind, the pressure he felt when they pushed him and groped him, his dom telling him he had to be a good boy and do whatever they told him, to show all his friends how of a perfect sub he was. The degradation started to make him uncomfortable and his mental state got worse the more time he spent with him.

That’s when Changbin and Jisung appeared in his life and somehow, without explicitly talking about it, they made him realize he was better without that person. And then Minho came, with his warm words and his small gestures, with his maturity and his understanding of how Chan needed to take things slow the first times, because he was still uneasy about the past. And Minho never pushed, never talked down to Chan unless he asked verbally for it, never hit harder than Chan could take and never left him alone after fucking. He never did anything without Chan’s permission and consent and thanks to that, Chan was able to even try new things with him and forget -mostly- about the past.

“Don’t worry, I am fine” his words sound cuter than he meant and he feels the blush taking over his face. Minho’s vibrant and lively laugh resonates in the small room and Chan feels better in the darkness, less lonely and safer, because it was Minho, after all.

His petite hands play with some of Chan’s beautiful chaotic curls, pulling the shorter hair of his nape while their foreheads meet in an indescriptible intimate moment, completely different from all the previous ones. His head leans on Chan’s for a few seconds, and Chan can feel his deep breathing as if it was his own. In and out. _In and out_. Their heartbeats crying silently at the same pace in a vulnerable eternity of unspoken feelings and fears. Of unspoken insurmountable agony.

Minho’s nose brushes against Chan’s temple on his way back to his mouth and Chan’s breathing quickens, because there’s just something so breath-taking about the way Minho is gently touching him, even though he is, at the same time, visibly angry with him. Something that speaks about self-control and affection to the point that it melts Chan’s soul at that exact moment. Something that makes his hands shake and his heart pound fast when Minho touches him, making him gasp with each minimal contact. He stops for a few seconds, with their noses touching and their lips almost meeting and Chan knows that this time is not about wanting to get on his nerves, but something that Minho needs. A few seconds before breathing again, when their mouths collide in an intense kiss that would break all the barriers of their hearts.

There’s something new and pleasantly odd in the contact of Minho’s lips now that Chan is temporarily blind and his other senses have to make it up for him, amplifying the sensations, making him notice things that he never paid attention to in the past. Like the way Minho’s hands were a bit more rough and callous that he remembered, but kind with their caresses. How his lips were wet, soft and gentle on their unhurried path through Chan’s skin and mouth, as if Minho was testing his reactions, enjoying the way Chan squirmed whenever his hot breath hit the older’s neck. How his tongue was skilful tracing the limits of Chan’s red lips, as if he knew by heart every edge, every curve, imperfection and sensitive spot of his lover. And how his teeth bit harshly on that same bruise he did before, enough to make him whimper out loud the more he sucked the blood that came out of it. Even the exact way he moaned softly each time their bodies get closer, dragged by some sort of superior force that makes them come back again and again to the other’s arms even though they know they shouldn’t let their hearts speak for them and guide them that much.

But, most of all, the way his own body felt like fire with each kiss, faster and harder than in any other occasion, so turned on by finally being deprived of his sight for the first time. It was as if he could portray in his mind everything that Minho did vividly but at the same time, so blurry and far away from reality that he needed more and more and more.

“Mi-inho” he complains after a few kisses. He loved kissing, but he was growing impatient and his dick had been suffering since that morning more than he could take at this point. He was craving more than just light kisses and bites. He was craving roughness, pain and pleasure, Minho speaking to him with indifference and making him beg.

“Are you that desperate already, pretty whore?” he laughed, and Chan felt a bit empty now that Minho’s hands and lips weren’t on his body. “Mmm, I think I can give you a bit more since you didn’t open your eyes before as I’ve told you” Chan moves his head frenetically, so excited from just getting anything else that he doesn’t care about how needy he might seem right now. “Lie down, baby” Chan does it instantly and he hears a hum of approval close to his ear. He can feel the weight of Minho’s body on his lap, the fabric of his clothes brushing against Chan’s skin roughly, but the silence and the darkness is killing him after a few seconds of getting nothing.

Of course Minho wouldn’t give it to him so easily. He wanted him to beg, as always, and Chan was too horny that night to even object and misbehave like in previous encounters.

“Please, Minho” he pouts, although he hates it, because he knows that making himself look smaller or more innocent always breaks Minho’s facade faster when they are in the bed.

“Please _what_?” _God_ , he fucking hates him right now. His cock is twitching angrily under his hoodie, his hands are tied so he cannot touch himself and Minho is just there, moving slightly his hips from time to time against his lap to ruin him, but doing anything at all to please him. He can even imagine the smirk that was decorating Minho’s lips right now, observing him suffer with delight. “I need words, baby, or puppy won’t get what he wants” he also hated how easily Minho would switch from degrading, praising him or using their pet names in even third person. It puzzled and attracted him equally so freaking bad.

“I want more, I don’t care what you decide to give me because I have been bad, but I just need more because I think I am dying” he hisses, arching his back a little and having trouble pronouncing some words while Minho moves his hips faintly, creating friction between his covered member and Chan’s naked one.

“Ohhh, so my pretty slut admits that he has been a pain in the ass, right?” Chan nods, getting redder the more he has to humiliate himself and leaking so bad on his hoodie that it hurts his pride.

“Mi-inho-o, it hurts, please” he hears how Minho clicks his tongue and sighs, as if he was annoyed by how pathetically Chan was behaving after being a slut on camera. And Chan fears that the torture might continue for a while as other times, because Minho doesn’t answer verbally and he stops any motion over his dick. Chan whines, moving his tied hands towards his hard on without thinking, but Minho is faster and hits them off his body, moving them up Chan’s head as a warning. He can now feel his breathing near his chest and Chan is about to speak again when Minho’s hands start playing with the hoodie, little by little revealing more of Chan’s naked form, touching him slowly and biting him on the hips in an irregular pattern to confuse Chan about what would be his next movement.

At some point, his mouth gets closer to his dick and Chan thinks that Minho is about to give him a blowjob because the boy is also not in his lap anymore, but then his lips go up again, Chan grabs the bed sheets in desperation. He cannot move his hands towards his member again or use his age to order him anything -which frankly turns him on- because he knows damn well the consequences of getting a second warning and he doesn’t want to disappoint Minho more. He wanted to be a good pup that night after misbehaving so badly just to get what he wanted.

Minho hums softly, approving his behaviour and praises him with a few words while his mouth gets closer to his nipples. Minho loved to play with Chan’s nipples because it was a really sensitive place for the older. There was something so irresistible about the way he squirmed with each touch, much more responsive that any other partner he had in the past, which made Minho desire to do it every time they had a few hours to have sex.

“Pretty boy” Chan whimpers cutely with the adjective and Minho smiles, full of himself the more Chan moves helplessly on the bed when he starts sucking one of his nipples, or more precisely, kitten licking one of his nipples while making circle motions on the other. Chan cries softly, too overwhelmed by the little pleasure he was receiving when in fact, his nipples had been hard for a while because he couldn’t stop himself from touching them. He was still new to the sensation of the piercings against his delicate skin, and how easily wrecked they left him now that Minho knew exactly how to use them to his advantage. His teeth bite and pull the one he was previously licking slowly and Chan groans. His hands fail to grab the headboard, moving eagerly in the air without a precise destination and struggling with the leather that tied them together “So cute” Minho mumbles, in between carefully biting and licking the bruised nipple, making sure to pull enough to drive him crazy but not hurt him badly. His other hand lies on Chan’s stomach now, caressing the hard muscles of his abs, pitching his sides and coming back to his nipple from time to time, to do the same before he reverts the process and changes to the other. “So good” Chan cannot stay still, arching his back and whimpering cutely, getting closer to Minho’s body in a way that made him look small, fragile, even though he could overpower Minho at any moment.

“M-inho-o” his lips are a bit covered with blood from biting himself, probably in an attempt to not ask for more so easily and Minho feels tempted to give him a little more, so he kisses his chest while his hand searches for Chan’s dick without looking. Chan moans loudly when he feels Minho’s hand at the tip of his member and starts mumbling something like “yes, yes, yes” although Minho is not sure because Chan is constantly switching languages when he gets needy and right now his accent is starting to become so broken that it could probably be just random sounds more than real words.

But mercy is not something Minho has planned to have that night with Chan. Not so much, at least. And not so early. So he is quick to stop jerking him off, earning a protest from the older boy that gets on his nerves. Minho hits him on the thigh and Chan wails in silence before shutting up completely.

“You wanted this. You made me see how you would fuck him in front of all of us and the fans just to be completely ruined tonight, so don’t be a baby and take it all as a good boy” Chan nods and Minho caresses the place in which he has hit him, in case it was still itching from the pain. “Lay down, face on the pillow and ass up” Chan obeys, a bit slower than on other occasions by the blindfold, and Minho catches the pillow from his own bed to put it under Chan’s stomach. He didn’t want him to have back pain the next day and he also needed to have better access to his ass for what he wanted to do next.

It was something he had done in the past, not that much, but enough to know what would make Chan feel good in general. He knows that Chan loved it but hasn't had that many opportunities to experience it because of his awful partners and their lack of acknowledgement of Chan’s needs and desires. For that same reason, Minho looked for videos and tips on the internet not long ago to give him a surprise. Chan has always been an ass guy, he loved to spank other people, and more than once, he noticed how Chan would look at Changbin’s ass when they were working out in the gym. And he wasn’t going to lie, he did look as well and was more than once jealous for not having that nice butt. Nevertheless, he wanted to amaze and leave Chan bewildered about all the things they would do that night.

He was pretty confident on his skills in that matter, because he had sucked enough dicks to know how to work the tongue to drive others crazy; however, it wasn’t exactly the same and a small part of him felt thrilled about what would be Chan’s reaction overall and if he would be able to destroy him as he had planned.

“Kitten” Chan begs, his voice coming muffled by the pillow that was against his face and his ass swinging impatiently. Minho hits him, lighter than before and more as a joke than a warning, causing Chan to giggle and moan at the same time. His pale skin gets a bit pink and Minho kisses the spot while his hand searches for the lube near the bedside table. Chan always liked scented lubes with different tastes and Minho was more than grateful for that right now, because it wouldn’t be that cool to eat his ass with normal flavourless lube.

Minho rolls his eyes when he sees the taste of this one in particular. _Peaches_. Of course he would bring a lube with that taste. He had been so annoying with peaches for a few months, saying it on live, eating one in the most lustful and imaginative way in front of him and so on. People were suspicious about the meaning of that word for him and also about the connotations of the amount of pineapple he was consuming. But they just had to think dirty to find the correct answer, as some adult accounts guessed on the dark side of the internet.

Chan loved peaches and ass, and Chan started eating pineapple regularly after Minho started sucking him off. So it all led to sex and how insatiable he could be, going round after round with his good stamina. Good for him, because Minho also had a good one and a lot of patience. But the thing was that Chan wasn’t that used to be the one receiving attention and pleasure, so he hadn’t needed to care that much about how good his cum tasted, but Minho was a bit picky and if he was about to blow him off more than once a week, it should be as rewarding and enjoyable for both of them as they could, thank you very much.

He spread a good amount of lube on his fingers and went straight away to insert the first one on Chan’s hole. Chan had been fucking himself open for a while and Minho’s fingers were a bit slenderer than his, so Minho was pretty sure Chan could even take two at once, but he wanted to burn him slowly. Chan jolted unpleasantly because the lube was fucking cold against his tight hole, but he didn’t complain out loud apart from a tiny whimper. There were just a few occasions in which they switched and, although Chan liked to top more, he was more than fine with being the bottom tonight if that was what Minho wanted.

Minho curled his finger, in search of Chan’s prostate and when he heard how the boy under his body started to whimper harder, he knew he found it. “You are so wet, pup. Were you really that needy for me? Did you want that bad to feel my dick on your ass, breaking you apart, making you lose your mind, digging into your soul with each thrust?” Chan moaned out loud something that resembled a “yes” in korean but could also be a broken whimper, as far as Minho perceived. He, then, inserted a second finger and Chan started to shake a little. God, he was so close with such a few things. Minho loved it. “Well, baby, that’s too bad…” his two fingers inside stopped completely and Chan cried his name, trembling but still not moving against Minho’s body, trying his best to be a good puppy even though he wanted to scream because Minho was too slow. Minho smiled and took a better position on the bed. His fingers, soaked with all the lube Chan and him used to fuck him open slowly, spread apart Chan’s legs a bit more. He eyed cautiously each reaction from the older, internally laughing at how Chan sighed thinking that he was finally get Minho to fuck him. Poor boy thought he was going to get what he wanted that fast… “because I am not going to fuck you with my dick tonight” Chan gasps, hard, at the same moment he feels Minho’s tongue on his rim, his hands spreading his (ass) cheeks and caressing his thighs and his hips.

“Mi-in, agh, fuck!” his hips move forward, against the mattress and his hole clenches with each little lick Minho gives to his hole, carefully going around the zone, also touching his balls, but neither his dick, nor penetrating him with his tongue. Chan sobs and Minho can hear the way he struggles against the leather of his wrists, against everything that is torturing him right now.

“Behave” he doesn’t yell, it is more like a whisper with a harsh tone, but Chan hears it perfectly and cries, trying his best to obey him. Minho starts licking more profusely his ass, alternating between light licking and trying to go deeper each time with his tongue, and Chan fights back against his desire of touching his dick, whimpering whenever the pillow slightly hurts his hard pierced nipples or the bedsheets his angry red cock because he squirms and shakes so bad. “Does it feel good, dumb pup?” Chan nods frenetically, but Minho wants a verbal confirmation, so he spanks him and Chan jolts again, moaning in a high pitched voice. “I want to hear your voice, little slut. Good boys always answer their owners” Chan struggles to form coherent sounds, so Minho stops touching his balls and licking his rim in different patterns, focusing now in just kissing his taint for the pleasure of teasing him devilishly.

“Go-od, mor-re-e…” his voice sounds so broken that it automatically makes Minho feel proud. “Mo-ore” he says more clearly, controlling his breath in and out, like those times when he tries to endure a bit more before reaching his orgasm.

_It was so beautiful._

“Good boy” he praises, blowing a bit of air on Chan’s asshole, playing with the different sensations before putting a bit more of that peach flavored lube that actually didn’t taste so bad. Chan shakes his butt a little backwards, in search of Minho’s tongue again when he notices how the dancer takes his sweet time, looking at him or maybe just thinking for all Chan is able to perceive, which is nothing more than what Minho wants him to feel and hear. “You seem to like it very much, mmh?”

“Fe-els good, none did it li-ike that in the past for me” Minho caresses Chan’s thighs in a reassuring and gentle way for a few seconds, giving the boy a break before continuing again. He kisses some spots on Chan’s back, making him relax under his touch, but never fully, and therefore, inserting his fingers inside his asshole, moaning a bit when he notices how Chan’s cute ass clenches with each thrust or how Chan moans when he kisses and bites his thighs.

He wanted to mark him up there as well. Make his puppy look so pretty for him, _just for him._

For a few minutes, he repeats the process, changing his motions, giving him longer or shorter breaks, altering the way his tongue flicked inside his ass, going deeper, harder, slower and just faintly touching him, enjoying the way he was more and more desperate and the way he started to pronounce his name as a plead, so broken, so cutely ruined. His hips couldn’t stay still even though he was trying his best, and Minho knew Chan was getting closer by the way his veins were so profusely visible against his glistened pale skin. Each cute little sound, more high-pitched than the previous one.

He could let him cum, so filthy and unlike “Mr. Perfect Boy Chan”, just for the pleasure of seeing how his ears would turn utterly pink and he would try to hide again with his sweater paws. Feeling humiliated for coming so easily. Feeling turned on by the way Minho would smirk, proudly, at him, with that kind of superior look in his eyes that made him shiver and hate him each day.

However, there was something Minho wanted to do before letting him fuck him open, and he needed Chan to hold on and endure it for a while. Or maybe more than just a while.

“Do you trust me, pretty boy?” he whispers, kissing his shoulders and neck from time to time. Chan nods, pouting a bit because he wanted more than anything, Minho’s fingers and tongue again on his ass. He was freaking loving what Minho was doing, enjoying to its maximum how it felt to be the one getting that type of pleasure for the first time to such a degree. Fuck, Minho was perfect with that tongue, although not better than he swore Chan was with his lips wrapped around Minho’s dick on semi-public places. That was another kind of heaven according to Minho. Nevertheless, at that moment, Chan thought that Minho could hold that title perfectly. “Turn around, then” he squeezes one of Chan’s hands sweetly and Chan moves slowly, making a few faces by the way his member hurt pretty badly. “I am going to try another thing, ok? And I need you to tell me if you want me to continue for a while or to then prepare myself for intercourse. Do you understand, Channie?”

Minho didn’t forget why he was a bit angry with Chan, and that was part of the reason why he decided to try tonight what he long ago wanted to suggest but was a bit hesitant to do so, afraid that it would be too much for Chan, who was still recovering from bad experiences and seemed to trust him with his life. They just talked briefly about it long ago, so he was not going to go full on him even if Chan wanted, because they hadn’t specifically spoken about what Chan would like to try, about his limits in that matter or anything due to his lack of experience in that field. Back then, Minho simply answered some questions Chan had rewarding the level of pain and how Minho felt, but they soon started eating again when the rest of the boys joined them in the kitchen. Since then, Minho hadn’t had the courage to ask him if he wanted to try it, but the idea came back to him a few days ago after watching Chan's porn history by mistake and finding he watched plenty of videos about that practice. Minho knew him enough. It took a lot of courage for Chan to ask him to try out those type of things, so he wanted to make it easier for him this time.

He can see how Chan’s chest rises and falls, nervously, growing impatient. His thick average dick was completely on display resting on his defined stomach, while his nipples were now covered by the hoodie, which was most definitely staying on during sex that night. He loved the sight of his muscles clenching with anticipation, but most of all, he loved how chocked up Chan sounded the moment he felt Minho’s boot against his hard on. His whole body winced forward while Minho moved his foot up and down slowly, massaging his member in a pleasurable way.

“Shit, Minho, shit, shit” he cursed and this time, Minho didn’t scold him for it. He liked well behaved puppies, but sometimes, it was incredibly attractive to see how the pup was unable to control what he was saying, unable to think correctly or do anything at all. Like a toy, ready to be used as he pleased.

Chan gets louder when Minho steps on his cock, applying a bit more of pressure on the angrily red tip a couple of times before repeating the process, each time rougher, testing little by little Chan’s limits and reactions. Chan hits the mattress, so frustrated and pronounces something incoherently while his body shakes so bad.

“You okey, pup?” Chan nods fast, positively sure, but his voice gives him away when he starts to wail louder while Minho stops the circular movements to step on his dick, putting part of his weight, although not enough to really hurt him badly. Chan’s legs tremble and move around the bedsheets without control, sometimes crushing Minho’s feet between his thighs, reaching for more, begging for anything more than that painfully slow torture. Minho smiles proudly and grinds his feet a bit faster now, stepping from time to time, trying to make it unexpected, trying different (safe) things just to see how he cries a bit more “You like it?” Chan nods again, not trusting in his voice enough now to not make him sound even more desperate. “Words, or my beautiful painslut won’t get anything else and will have to watch me get off in front of him while I deny him one after another his long-awaited orgasms.”

“Good...agh… please, hit me” a light fluid damps his stomach little by little and Minho knows he is going to ruin his orgasm if he continues for a few more seconds and stops.

He smiles devilishly and executes Chan’s petition, slapping him on the dick with the flat part of his hand. Instantly, Chan loses his breath, as if all the air has disappeared from his lungs due to the shock and the pain that spreads like electricity through his veins. His dick twitches and his body grows closer to Minho’s form, now seated beside Chan. His breath becomes more irregular when Minho squeezes his balls with his sticky hands from the lube and Chan’s pre-cum, and he squirms when Minho presses a thumb against the urethra. More liquid spreads and Minho scratches a bit of skin of the frenulum. Chan screams and Minho stops immediately while the other thrust up in the air, completely desperately while his orgasm hits him much softer than he wanted. Chan wriggles and his hands, bound together, hold onto Minho’s shirt hopelessly while the tears damp the blindfold from desperation. His cute whines are muffled against Minho’s chest while the other shushes him quietly.

“No, no, no, no, no…” he mumbles in a mess of spit, tears and shaky breaths. Minho hugs him, caressing his hair and kissing his arms while Chan is not completely under control of his body or words. “I ne-e-ed, I-I need, I j-just need…” he hiccups while Minho takes off the blindfold and kisses him softly, holding him close to his body for a few minutes while Chan struggles and cries helplessly. Chan slowly starts calming down, feeling warm and secure in Minho’s arms and later, reciprocating the little smooches. “Thank you” he finally says.

Below that image of control and security, Chan was really vulnerable and it was not the first time he had cried when they fucked. At first, Minho panicked, but now he was used to that particular way Chan had of crying when it felt especially good. He knew perfectly well when Chan was crying from pleasure and how he groaned when he was in pain. Hell, he even knew every tiny freckle he had on his chest and cheeks.

So, Minho soon learned that Chan hated and fucking loved denied orgasms, being brought to his limits, being frustrated until he couldn’t take more and it even hurt him to beg and cry like a kid.

“All good, baby?” He needs to make sure Chan is ok every time they do something like that, even though Chan has admitted plenty of times to get off on the memories he has of those hard times with Minho edging him and teasing him slowly.

“Yes, Kitten, I’m good” his voice sounds more stable and Minho breathes normally again. The aching of his heart reducing minute by minute, although that sting that was still piercing his heart with Chan’s behaviour that afternoon and his words about Seungmin, hadn’t abandoned him.

“Did it feel good? Was I good?” _Fuck_ , he was so nervous about Chan’s opinion always. He really wanted to make it an unforgettable experience. He wanted to make him feel good in his range of comfort but also add a little of pain he knew Chan could take as a masochist.

“Perfect. Don’t worry” he buries his head on Minho’s neck and they both cuddle for a while, waiting for Chan to relax. “But my dick still hurts, you demon” they both laugh and Chan looks at his own member with a pout. His cock is mostly soft now, but the color is still an angry red violetish and his balls hurt from Minho’s scratching, although not in a really unpleasant way. “Was I good up until now, Kitten?” Minho reassures him and Chan sighs softly, batting his eyelashes against Minho’s sensitive skin.

After a while, Minho interrupts the hug and kisses Chan’s nose, getting out of bed and throwing away his boots (yep, he was so angry he forgot to change his shoes before going to the gym, but in reality he practically didn’t do anything, he was too irritated to lift some weights). Chan pouts but Minho ignores him while he unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants.

“Now, baby, you are going to wait here, sitting like a good boy, without touching yourself because that will only hurt you more, while I take a shower” he gives Chan hands a little squeeze, making sure to use an appropriate tone of voice to let him know that he is just taking a shower and not going away and most of all, that it is not a punishment. Minho just hated to be stinky and have sex all sweaty from the gym.

“No-o” It is the first time Minho sees Chan’s pleading eyes that night, and fucking hell, they are ethereal and too terribly beautiful for his own good.

“What did you just say?” his eyes burn like hell but his lips curve in a more deathly smirk. He hated how Chan sometimes talked back to him in a whiny voice instead of just getting his point across. He was tired, horny and hurt from his words tonight, so he honestly, couldn't deal with bratty Chan for more than what he had dealt with. “Do you want to watch? Is that?” he insinuates with the sweetest smile he can form right now, placing his bet in Chan’s kinky ass and his love for watching Minho do things naked, even if they weren’t sexual things, just for the sake of seeing his naked frame. Also, because he really doesn’t want to get angry again and he has had enough of his bratiness for today- or more like, two whole fucking months-.

“No-o” he repeats and Minho raises an eyebrow in silence “I like when we fuck and you are covered in sweat. I like the way your hair is styled, how messy you look and how your skin is sticky under my hands. It’s hot, and dirty and...” he stumbles across his words, unsure of which is the korean word he is looking for. Minho visibly relaxes and his smile becomes less tense.

“Primal? Primitive? Irresistible?” he continues for him and Chan blushes, smiling a bit by Minho’s own smug smile. “Damn, I knew I was enchanting but not to the point of being able to corrupt “Perfect, Healthy and Clean Freak Channie” into fucking like two beasts in heat”

“Shut up” he murmurs, looking down to his restraint, and Minho laughs cutely, kissing him again on the nose.

“If that’s what you want, baby” Chan nods vividly, with sparkly cute little eyes and Minho’s heart melts for the millionth time since they have known each other. “Ok, then, dirty sex” Chan rolls his eyes, annoyed by Minho’s teasing, but he makes himself cuter when he lifts his arms up. “Don’t worry, you won’t need your hands for a while yet” Chan squeals when Minho hits his hands again “I saw that, dumb pup, don’t try to put them closer to your dick to jerk off. I want you to cum inside of me” Chan chokes on his own saliva before he can answer back anything and Minho winks at him, finally getting completely undressed.

He was eager too. Fuck, his dick had been so hard for so long that he might just cum untouched if Chan moaned like before, so wrecked, for a few more minutes. He loved how vocal Chan was in bed.

He searches in his suitcase for another lube. They didn’t need the flavoured one for the rest of the night, and he wanted to save a bit for the rest of the trip until they could come back to their dorms and get more, because hell, he wasn’t risking his butt and the group’s image if by mistake, he was caught on fan photos walking with lube on a plastic bag, just for the pleasure of getting fucked by Chan. Even though he had an amazing dick and he knew how to use it, he was not that stupid. Also, he swore those lenses from the cameras could even see through their backpacks. It was really scary how fans would invade that much of their privacy and upload it online.

He kisses Chan again on his way back to the bed, smiling a bit against the pout that was still on the older’s lips. Chan wanted to help, even though he absolutely loved to watch as well, but he felt useless when Minho did those kinds of things, and that was exactly the point. To tell him that Minho didn’t need him to pleasure himself, just to repeat in his ears how fucking amazing he was fucking him minutes later and see him cry from the overwhelming sensation. He liked to tease him like that, making him feel small under his touch and his looks, to then praise the fuck out of him and transform him into a mess of happy tears and loud cries.

For that reason, Minho would sometimes go soft for Chan, a thing that he never did in the past with previous partners. He would make love with him in any position and however he liked, because he was _that_ whipped for their leader.

Minho positions himself comfortably against the pillows on the headboard, sensually spreading his legs under the intense gaze of Chan’s desperate eyes. His small fingers pinching and scratching the deliciously formed thighs he got from dancing for so many years, leaving marks all over that sensitive place just because he knew Chan would love to do that himself. He starts stroking his length, so painfully hard after being neglected for so long, and his eyelashes flutter instantly, an erotic moan leaving his flush lips. Chan whimpers in the distance and Minho plays a little with his frenulum, smearing pre-cum, lube and more pre-cum and lube with sweat until everything is a mess and he feels so dirty, but so desired, that his toes curl and the muscles of his abdomen tense. He stops, much to his disappointment, because he doesn’t want to cum yet, plus, it would be too cruel to reach his climax and make Chan wait for another few minutes after teasing him hard. He had a bit of decency left on him, much to Chan’s luck.

“Puppy seems to be desperate” he says, in between breaths, entering the first wet finger into his hole while Chan’s eyes seems to fall deeper into an abyss. The abyss of Minho’s beauty and eroticism. “Poor dumb mutt” his fake pity piercing Chan’s body like needles, hardening again his dick minute by minute.

His legs tremble when he introduces a second finger, slowly, not because he needs it, but because he is enjoying pretty much how bit by bit Chan is reaching his limit, clenching his hands around nothing, his thick veins showing off in those beautifully pink hands at each action, probably imagining that they were in Minho’s position now, making him feel so good.

And a part of Minho wished that was true, because Chan has slender fingers and he always seemed to know where to touch, were to curl, circle and press, as if he knew every centimetre of Minho’s body and what to do to make him cum in less than two minutes without touching his dick (much to Minho’s shame when they tried it after making a bet, drunk).

But that was neither the point, nor what Chan deserved. The poor idiot was thrusting up against his hoodie now, searching for any kind of friction, while Minho let slip from his lips the most lustful moans and groans he ever emitted, spreading his legs apart, shivering over the dirty noises of his hole, which was swallowing eagerly his incredibly wet fingers, needing more but not being able to reach his peak because of the length of his extremities. He hisses, bucking up his hips, his dick twitching and dripping on his stomach. Chan cries harder, gripping the bed sheets while his eyes seem to be frozen, eating, devouring Minho out each second, without even blinking.

“You like the sight, dirty boy? Are you going to get off on this later? Like a fucking whore?” Chan bites his lips hard, until he draws blood from them, he seems so close even though he is getting nothing in return that Minho thinks he won’t be able to ever forget the view. Fuck, he absolutely loved how Chan was a people’s pleaser, it was amazing in bed to let him do whatever he wanted and be taken care of so good, but also, not allowing him the pleasure of doing it and instead, give him all his attention, returning all those touches, kisses and pleasure, destroying him softly (not so softly, really) every day.

He is also close again, so he stops and crawls with a bit of difficulty, because his legs were trembling, until he is Chan’s lap. The poor boy is shaking so bad under him that it’s endearing. His shaky breaths and his shiny eyes really make Minho melt in that moment, pulling him by the collar just to feel his closer, just to feel his lips against his own, broken, wet, with a metallic taste from the blood mixed with the peach flavoured lube. His mind is so far away, dizzy, navigating in the overwhelming pleasure of his feeling his lips, his skin, the fabric of his clothes against his naked form. Chan moans and whines with each kiss and bite Minho gives him, forming hickeys on his neck now.

Fuck the company and their rules. He _needed_ to mark him up now. To love him in each and every possible way.

“Shi-it!” Chan hisses in English once, when Minho moves his hips down and their dicks meet in an exhilarating motion. But all his next words are cut off by Minho’s eager hands, pulling him by the collar softly, just a fast and experienced tug that leaves Chan breathless.

Minho wanted to keep on with the act, he really wanted to fuck himself open with his fingers on Chan’s lap, but the way he was moaning was making it so hard for Minho. His hands were shaking, trying his best to not touch himself or Minho, but he failed after a few more seconds, touching Minho’s tip maybe to make him reach his break point, or maybe because he just needed to do it. Minho was not sure. Frankly, his mind was a mess now and he didn’t want to wait any longer. He was also completely desperate and all that act about not allowing him to move, to do anything, was frustrating him now. He needed Chan’s hands on his body. His lips, his words, his dick… In the end, it was kind of hilarious how he fell from his own game.

He needed Chan more than he even wanted to admit.

“Fuck it” Minho drags Chan to the headboard in between kisses, rolling a bit clumsily through the bed. They were probably giving a pathetic image at this point, but he didn’t care. Somehow, they make it to the place he wanted without breaking anything and falling out of the bed. Chan laughs and says something about Minho being more eager than him now and Minho hits him on the thigh to shut him up, because he wanted to keep on kissing him passionately.

He makes sure Chan is sitting comfortably against some pillows, because he knows how many back problems he has from spending too many hours in front of the computer, and Chan smiles cutely by the way Minho does all that frenetically, putting care on his actions, but faster than ever.

“Now, pretty boy, you are going to do all the work, do you hear me?” Minho asks while he unties him. His wrists were a bit red from the friction against the leather, but nothing too extreme. He kisses them sweetly and Chan shudders. Then, the proceeds to kiss him softly on the lips. One last peck. For a few seconds they don’t move, they don’t kiss anymore and they don’t speak. Just enjoying that silence, only broken by their frantic heartbeats and their heavy breathing. Drinking from the other’s eyes all those emotions they weren’t able to put into words. “I want you to fuck me, hard, slow, however you want. Just destroy me, baby, while I destroy you. Fuck me using those beautifully defined muscles of your arms, make me cry, use me while I use you. You have been good, so good for me, so now I will reward you, baby--” he isn’t able to speak more because Chan kisses him hard, their teeth colliding and their bodies meeting as if they were one. Minho introduces Chan’s member on his ass without hesitation and they both hold their breaths, too overwhelmed by the pleasure that dominates them. Chan swears under his breath, probably cursing him for not taking his time and doing it without preparing himself properly. But Minho loved to do it a bit raw sometimes, to feel sore the next day, it turned him on and made him desire to do it again and again and again.

So he was a bit of a masochist himself as well.

Minho is unable to hide his sweet smile, because that’s the Chan he best knows, the one who worries about his well-being constantly. The one who is always asking him if it’s good, if it isn’t too much, if he needs more time to adjust…

Chan keeps mumbling something, caressing his hips and stopping him before he can start moving, but Minho is not listening to his complains about him being a fucking bastard. Instead, he fucks with him a bit more by saying “Don’t worry, I have taken much bigger dicks than yours”. That shuts Chan completely up. The poor boy was now fulminating him with his eyes, but it doesn’t last long, because while his jaw clenches, hurt by the comment and turned on (much to his embarrassment), Minho takes advantage of the situation and starts moving his hips up and down slowly. Chan’s eyes close instantly and his mind betrays him by saying “Fuck, you feel so good Minho”.

They had been waiting for so long that it is as if something possessed them, controlling their actions, controlling the words they mumble: broken, unintelligible, beautiful. The name of the other falling from their lips, their bodies moving erratically faster and faster each second that passed in an unstoppable desire of searching for their climax. Chan says something about Minho taking him so good in a high pitched moan and Minho praises him, tells him that his big useless cock for once was doing its job. Chan whines about the comment and Minho laughs, observing the way he was breaking apart under him.

He practically doesn’t move, letting Chan do all the work, pulling him up and down with his strength, those bulked up biceps working so beautifully. They get rid of Chan’s hoodie, not because Minho hates it, but because he wants to taste Chan’s abs, leave more marks and touch him freely. His hands caressing his body, his legs trembling and his hole clenching on purpose. Chan was filling him up so well, stretching him with each thrust. He could feel his thickness, the lube and the cum becoming one on his hole while more tears fell from Chan’s tired and loving eyes.

“So good, pup, so good for me” he mumbles, now helping a bit because Chan was trembling like a leaf and his dick was twitching deliciously inside Minho. Minho moves his hips, sensually, slowly, hard, fast, everything he can think of and perform, dragging them closer and far away from their orgasms as he pleased, and Chan did nothing to stop him, loving every bit, every tear that desperately fell from his eyes.

The wet sounds echo through the room. The bed squeaking a bit and their moans becoming louder and louder. They would get a noise complaint for sure the next morning, and he could even draw in his mind perfectly the pinkish tint Chan ears would adopt tomorrow, embarrassed from being so loud, so obvious, so fucking dirty. Minho moans, so turned on by the mental image, and bites harshly on Chan’s shoulder. Chan screams and speeds his pace. One of his hands try to sneak in between their bodies to jerk Minho off, but Minho stops him and instead, he intertwines their fingers.

“Fuck, right there, Channie, just right there” Minho’s back arches, pleasure exploding through his body like a fire when Chan finds his prostate and focuses on that. His movements a bit messier from the tiredness, but harder now that Minho was not just groaning his name but also whimpering and holding onto his body as if he was an anchor.

In the middle of the bliss, Chan begs, like an abandoned puppy and Minho, understanding perfectly what he wants with just that word “Throat”, pulls Chan’s collar again, choking him a bit. His whines grow more high-pitched and his hips fail to follow the pace now, so Minho makes it up for Chan.

He sounded so wrecked, so close and loose.

The Chan that was fucking him was not the responsible leader who loved to always have control. It was the cute Chan that loved the pain, loved the pleasure and absolutely loved to be broken by Minho each time.

And Minho was pleased to give him all he asked. All he desired. Because it was Chan. Bang Chan, and he fucking loved him.

“You can cum, dirty slut” Chan cries and thrust up particularly hard one last time before cuming inside of Minho, his eyes rolling back and his nails scratching Minho’s hips until it draws a bit of blood. Minho sinks all the way in, trembling when he feels Chan’s cum exploding and filling him up until he cannot take anymore. The cum falls, so filthy from his hole, while he fucks himself on top of a more-than-ever whiny Chan. The tip of his dick was now brushing against Chan’s skin and his toes curl in pleasure while the fire expands and expands until everything seems to be on fire. His body. His mind. Chan. Him. The world.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Minho, Minho, Min, Mi-in!” his voice a mess, his mind a mess and his body a mess when Minho finally cums in both their stomachs without touching himself, smearing them with his fluids in a mixture of tears, cum, lube, sweat and a bit of blood from the scratches he left on Chan’s chest.

It was so gross but so stunning at the same time.

_So fucking delightful._

Minho collapses on top of Chan, his arms trembling and his mind completely blank, both lying on the bed, exhausted. Chan grunts because of Minho’s weight, but he doesn’t move him, still inside of him, with the cum dripping from his hole, falling from his thighs and his ass, making a mess of both their bodies and the bed sheets. 

Chan cannot remember the last time he came so hard. His head hurts a bit, although not as bad as his body due to the effort, and he cannot form any coherent words while Minho’s tears damp his chest. He lets him sob in his arms, embracing him tightly, kissing his hair and caressing his body peacefully. 

It was the first time Minho cried while fucking and Chan had an idea of what was the reason for his tears, because he was not stupid. He could be a bit blind, he could try to convince himself that Minho didn’t feel anything for him in return, but Chan wasn’t stupid and he knew that he had hurt Minho that afternoon, playing with Seungmin in front of him.

His voice is gentle and warm when he calls his name, but Minho refuses to let go, still sobbing softly against his chest. 

“I am so sorry, Minho. I was a complete jerk” Minho nods with his head and Chan laughs cutely. Of course Minho would be honest. It was one of his traits and one of Chan’s favourites about the boy. “I care about you, more than you think, and I wouldn’t change you for anyone. Do you hear me?” Minho hugs him harder, as if those words hurt him deeply in the soul “Minho… I... “ he didn’t have the courage to say it yet. He was too scared. Of the consequences. Of Minho’s reaction. Of his own reaction. 

Honestly, he never said it out loud to anyone that wasn’t a family member or a friend in a light sense. 

Chan sighs and pulls Minho closer until their bodies are pretty much intertwined from head to toe. They were stinky and the cum was itchy against the skin. They needed a shower and he wanted to apply cream on his wrists and Minho’s hips, but Minho’s state was more important right now. 

“I want you by my side, Minho. I want you to stay. Always. I need you to stay. I am not always fair with you, I am not always good and I would, most probably, break your heart if we keep on doing this, but honestly, I cannot imagine my nights without you by my side, I don’t know if you get what I mean?” he bites his lip, nervously, his heart pounding fast inside his chest. 

Fuck, this was more nerve-wrecking that going up to those scenarios every night in front of thousands of people. 

Minho nods after a few seconds and Chan kisses him in each and every atom of his face, slowly, gently, trying to express with his touch what his words were not able to convey right now. 

“Can we take a shower and cuddle? We are so gross…” Minho asks in the tiniest voice Chan has ever heard coming from him. His heart warms and a few tears fall from his eyes, but he is quick to clean them and lift up the other boy, because he absolutely loved to manhandle him and take him in his arms. Minho usually complains about it, but that night, he snuggled into Chan’s embrace and didn’t let him go even when they got to bed, hours after caressing each other’s body and cleaning the shampoo of their bodies. 

Chan didn’t usually sleep naked, but that night he wanted to feel the warmth of Minho’s frame completely against his. He needed Minho more than ever and Minho seemed to need him more than ever as well. And their bodies become one again that night, with Chan hugging Minho when they fall asleep. 

Maybe, Minho said something before Chan could fall asleep, but he wasn’t sure and he couldn’t remember the next morning, but Minho did, and every night they made love for the next months, he mumbled it before dozing off, waiting for the night Chan would be able to say it back. 

“I love you”

**Author's Note:**

> If you have reached the end, congratulations <3 
> 
> I am also sorry that the quality of my writing has decreased so hard on the last part, I cannot think properly anymore but I really wanted to end it because it was frustrating me. I hope you enjoyed this and if you can, please tell me what you like, what you dislike or whatever you want in the comments :D
> 
> Also, follow me on tw (@3rchxgods) for more scenarios and updates about other future fics :D


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